"Zel… I'm really not sure this is a good idea."
Link had never been especially eloquent, but this specific statement was even more clumsily spoken than usual. It seemed as though his tentative remark practically stumbled through the air towards Zelda's irritated ears, shattering several minutes' worth of priceless silence. Struggling not to roll her eyes, she pursed her lips and marched resolutely forward. The longer she could ignore her brother, the better.
It would have been so much easier just to leave him in the castle. Except, Zelda supposed, then she'd be short one Master Sword. She needed it to ensure her success, and it wasn't as though she could just borrow it for the day. After all, the myths all told her in no uncertain terms that only the one with the spirit of the hero would be able to wield it. The divine blade would feed on the energy of anyone less worthy, to the point of exhaustion… or worse.
For all her lifelong love of legends, Zelda had initially had some difficulty believing that her twin brother was a chosen hero, while she was only a princess, but that was before she tried to take the sword for herself all those years ago. She had felt little fear as she lay helplessly on the chapel floor, all her limited strength depleted. Rather, she remembered only a burning curiosity, a thirst for more knowledge: if that one of Telari's tales was true, then the others must be, too. She was right after all.
Link cleared his throat, and Zelda sighed heavily. The silent treatment evidently had no pacifying effect on Link's needless concern. "You worry too much," she said, looking back at him briefly. He had inherited altogether too much of their father's personality.
"No, I worry exactly the right amount," countered Link with surprising immediacy, and Zelda frowned slightly. When was the last time Link had picked a fight with her? (A non-physical fight, she amended to herself, recalling with some pleasure her overwhelming triumph during their training session last week.)
"The seal has been weakening for centuries," Zelda pointed out matter-of-factly, paraphrasing the thorough notes she'd left in her bedroom. If she had known Link would object so strongly, she might have considered making him read them. "By releasing him voluntarily this time instead of letting him break out on his own, we at least have a fighting chance of doing some damage control."
"But Zel, once he's awake—well, you've heard how he gets," said Link, and she glanced over her shoulder once more to find his eyes wide. Fear made her brother look much younger; he didn't look anything like a hero should, divinely bestowed sword notwithstanding. "It's not like we have the power to stop him if he doesn't cooperate."
"Your Master Sword and my Light Arrows say otherwise," said Zelda, giving him a smile. On the few occasions when they worked together, they made a truly formidable team. Really, it was too bad they had so little cause to do so in everyday life. But then, that may well change today.
"Even so, I don't like this," said Link, and Zelda narrowed her eyes. If his added support meant listening to his whining the whole way to the shrine, she'd honestly rather perish at the hands of the wind mage. "At all." His tone was insistent, as though she had somehow missed his all-too-clear feelings on the matter.
Zelda stopped short, smirking as Link crashed into her with a startled exclamation, and graciously allowed her brother a moment to recover before she turned to face him. "Then go back to the castle." She delivered the command as evenly as possible, crossing her arms and looking him in the eye—daring him to obey.
There was a pause, during which Link visibly wavered, ruffling his already untidy purple hair and awkwardly readjusting the scabbard on his back. He may have had the advantage of height by a few inches, but fortunately for Zelda, this never seemed to afford him much confidence in a confrontation.
Sure enough, he dropped his gaze in a gesture of submission before too long, though his deep red eyes were narrowed in displeasure. "You're my sister," said Link eventually, and Zelda relaxed slightly as she recognized her latest victory. "I can't just leave you."
"Okay, then stop complaining," said Zelda, turning around again and marching forward once more. Her brother no longer had any reason to protest; she had offered him the chance to turn back, and he had refused to take it. Now he was tagging along of his own volition.
"I'll complain as much as I want," muttered Link, and though Zelda had her doubts about whether she was supposed to hear him, she felt her limited patience unraveling still further. "You're trying to resurrect a demon!"
Zelda narrowed her eyes, glaring at nothing. Hadn't he listened to her plan at all? She wasn't about to bring back the most notorious mage in history for her own amusement, thank you very much! Waking him was only necessary because he happened to be in possession of the only artifact which could grant her the power necessary to protect the Triforce: the Mage's Cap.
"I told you about this idea when we were thirteen years old, Link," snapped Zelda, clenching her fists and kicking a small rock out of the way in frustration. And besides, she added to herself sourly, a wind mage—however monstrous—hardly qualified as a demon. "Why are you only nagging me about it now?"
"I… didn't think you were actually going to go through with it," confessed Link, sounding vaguely ashamed, but there was an unusually accusatory edge to his voice, and his countenance had darkened: the storm was about to break.
"So you thought I was joking for five whole years," said Zelda, shaking her head. Link was far sharper than most other people she'd met, and he knew her better than anyone else. He usually recognized her feelings even before she was aware of them herself. It was impossible that he should fail to recognize genuine determination.
Link gave a light, barely audible sigh that sounded a bit more like a growl. "Not really, but I figured you'd be smarter about it than this."
How could he say such a thing? After all those years of careful study—after all those investigations to discern truth from myth—how dare he imply that she was unprepared! "And just what is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, turning to face her brother once more with a scowl, and brushed her dark hair out of her face. "I've done my research on his strengths and weaknesses, as well as ours! I've even beaten you in training!"
Zelda took an indignant step towards Link, but he stood his ground, glaring at her for the first time. Clearly, Zelda had struck a nerve by mentioning their sparring sessions. "Yeah, but you're still purposely unleashing Lorule's most powerful enemy, just so you can take his hat."
"It's necessary," snapped Zelda, glowering back at Link as she crossed her arms. The Triforce was all too easy to access; she had been able to sneak in to see it many times before. It was true that the world healed faster for as long as the path between planes remained open, but it would be a great deal safer if it were sealed. Why had Link always refused to see that?
"It isn't!" retorted Link, and their red eyes locked for a moment. "Look, if you're so intent on saving the Triforce, why don't you just use its wish to seal off the Sacred Realm, or whatever? That way, you won't have to release any demons, and the world will be safe." He rolled his eyes, gesticulating upwards with unusual vehemence. "There! Problem solved. Can we go home now?"
"You think using the Triforce wasn't the first thing I considered?" shot back Zelda. "They say you have to have a balanced heart to make a wish, or it'll break apart. I don't know if my heart is balanced, but I'm not about to find out the hard way." Judging from the way Link was acting, she had clearly made the right decision. If her own brother, the chosen hero of the heavens, saw her as unstable, then it was highly unlikely the Triforce's opinion would be any different.
When Link said nothing, Zelda sighed. "As dangerous as it is to keep the complete Triforce at our fingertips," she continued, turning around and stalking resolutely onward with renewed vigor, "it's probably even riskier to split it up."
"But there's no need to take matters into your own hands like this," insisted Link. "Why don't you trust Mother and Father to make the right decision? If they decide to seal the Triforce, they're going to wait until Lorule is more fully healed before slowing the process down like that. Their choice should be good enough for you."
Zelda rolled her eyes. Her parents had turned a blind eye to the Triforce's vulnerability all her life, and didn't seem to realize that it would stay that way for all the years it would take for Lorule to heal. Had they learned nothing from their country's past? Peace never reigned for long amidst such temptation. "Our enemies won't just wait for Lorule to regain its glory."
"What enemies?"
"Look," said Zelda, glowering, "the Master Sword would have ignored you if you weren't supposed to use it someday. But instead, you've been marked as a hero, which means Lorule isn't safe. We're not safe."
"Yeah, you're right," agreed Link, but there was too much spite in his voice for his words to be genuine. "Probably because you're about to release a demon! And," he added, raising his voice to cut Zelda off as she opened her mouth—"and, Lorule is the only real country in the whole world right now, so don't start talking to me about enemies."
"You don't need to be part of a country to be an enemy," muttered Zelda, casting suspicious glances around at the trees as though they might be listening in—bright summer leaves whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves with the breath of the breeze.
"Hylia, you're paranoid," grumbled Link, shaking his head.
It was all too clear that he didn't believe her, just like the rest of the court. "Hylia doesn't exist," said Zelda, walking a little faster just to spite the goddess. That was the only myth she flatly refused to believe, because there was absolutely no proof. The whole half-forgotten religion was just a series of fables, meant to suppress rebellion by explaining why the Lorulean royal family had the divine right to rule.
"And cynical," said Link, attempting to make light of the situation—clearly hoping to change her mind through a different, gentler tactic. He might catch more flies with honey, but Princess Zelda of Lorule was by no means a mere fly. "That's not a very good combination for the crown princess."
Zelda narrowed her eyes. Ordinarily, playing that card worked wonders, but not today. Today, she wouldn't have to be ladylike to be the perfect princess. Saving the kingdom required a different skillset altogether, including a ready willingness to doubt the information she was given. "Or maybe it is, and you're just soft."
"I just… don't understand why you think we have so many enemies," said Link quietly, abandoning his attempt at winning Zelda over with humor. The rustling of the leaves in a stronger breeze almost drowned out his words, and there was a somewhat uneasy silence as they glanced up at the trees above.
"The Triforce has the power to grant any wish, and if Mother and Father aren't going to use it, then someone else will," said Zelda, making an effort not to raise her voice this time. Just as humor hadn't gotten Link anywhere, assertiveness wasn't getting her anywhere. "It's only logical."
Link let out a somewhat forced chuckle as Zelda followed a fork in the road. "Zel, the Triforce has been here twenty years, and no one's even tried."
Oh, that was it. No one laughed at Zelda's ideas. "Don't you understand?" she asked, clenching her fists with the force of her passion. "There can be no true peace while a power that great remains in our hands! As soon as they think Lorule can function without it, even our own people could turn against us. It'll be the Eldest War all over again."
For a long time, there was silence, but for the rustle of the leaves. As much as Zelda had enjoyed it earlier, it now made her uneasy. More than she initially thought, she needed Link to agree with her and say he understood. For almost as long as Zelda could remember, no one had agreed with her or even saw her point, regarding her as paranoid and rash. Knowing once and for all that Link shared their opinion hurt more than anticipated.
"I… suppose I see your point, but I still think you're being reckless," said Link eventually, his tone somewhat grudging, and heaved a sigh as they trudged steadily upwards. "This isn't like you."
"It isn't?" asked Zelda, stopping short at the top of the slope to catch her breath, and raised her eyebrows as she turned towards Link. "I was always under the impression that I was a rebellious troublemaker."
"Well, you're not like that in public," said Link, and the corner of Zelda's mouth tugged up despite herself. "Even in private, your risks are usually a lot more calculated than this." He shifted in place, glancing from side to side uncomfortably. "I just don't think you understand the situation you're getting into well enough to make a wise decision."
"And I suppose you'll tell me you know better than I do?" asked Zelda, turning to follow the path once more.
"Of course not," said Link, sounding genuinely surprised. "But frankly, it scares me that you're willing to disrupt this precarious balance and endanger the entire world… for the sake of a hat." He paused, and Zelda felt his fiery eyes scorch the back of her head. "Which, by the way, still isn't necessary."
"Link, even if I took your advice and backed down, the fact remains that the seal is only getting weaker," said Zelda wearily. "He'll break it himself someday—maybe even soon, since it's been so long. It's an inevitability." She rallied her determination, following the winding path still farther up the hill. "I'm just going to make it happen on my terms instead of his."
"Why can't we just strengthen the seal?" asked Link desperately, striding forward to walk alongside her.
Zelda fixed her gaze straight ahead of her, refusing to give in to her brother's questioning stare. "No one even knows how this seal was created, so it probably can't be repaired by normal means," she said, her voice shaking slightly with her upward footsteps. "The Shrine Maidens made some sort of sacrifice to keep him locked away, remember? And sacrifices are always tricky."
"So I assume that means the only real way to fix it is to sacrifice yourself too?"
"I haven't found a definitive answer, but that seems likely," said Zelda dispassionately. "Besides, if we prolong his captivity, then I won't be able to get his cap. Then the Triforce will remain vulnerable, and he'll be able to get it even more easily when he returns."
"I still don't understand why you think bringing back the greatest potential threat to the Triforce is going to help you protect it," snapped Link.
"Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'The ends justify the means'?" countered Zelda, rounding another corner and privately thanking whatever higher powers there might have been that she had been born first. If Link was crown prince, he'd never be able to live up to the expectations of a Lorulean monarch the way she could.
Link groaned, raising a hand lightly to his forehead. "Zel, you're beginning to sound like a villain."
Zelda grimaced at the implications. She was more of a hero than her brother; how much of a divine champion could he be if he never tried to save the world? "Please, Link. You're my brother. Trust shouldn't be too much to ask of you."
"I'd trust you more if I loved you less."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Zelda, finally coming to a stop to catch her breath, and searched her brother's face carefully. His countenance was less angry than she imagined, instead full of fierce affection and worry in equal measure. (Perhaps he did look a little like a hero after all.)
Link let out a long exhalation through his teeth, his eyes fixed intently on a point somewhere behind Zelda. "If I didn't feel so responsible for your safety, it would affect me less if something went wrong."
Zelda could say nothing to that. She only searched Link's face for a few moments and then marched resolutely forward once again, turning her mind to their destination. Based on her solo expedition into the forest a few weeks ago, they had only a couple more turns to take before they finally arrived at their destination.
"What if he takes you away somewhere?" demanded Link, hustling indignantly after her at last. "What if I never see you again?"
"Then I guess I'll be the queen of demons," said Zelda, a smile playing on her lips as she quickened her pace, turning the final corner. There it was, humming with ancient magical energy—the shrine!
Link grasped Zelda's wrist suddenly, pulling her backwards and spinning her around to face him. As she stared up into his burning eyes, she was reminded that her brother may have been shy and meek most of the time, but he was still undeniably strong. "Seriously, Zel," he said, looking her intently in the eye, and squeezed her shoulders. "I need to know that you've thought this through."
Zelda pursed her lips, glancing away. "If anything happens, I'll send you a telepathic message about my situation as soon as possible, and we'll strategize from there. But," she added, brushing Link's hands away and stepping back, "that's not going to be necessary."
"If you say so," muttered Link, glancing apprehensively up at the crumbling stone archway that marked the Shrine of the Picori Blade. His every muscle seemed rigid, and he stepped forward as gingerly as if the ground would drop away beneath his feet, gripping the hilt of the Master Sword.
"Don't worry so much," said Zelda, coming to a halt in front of the sword itself, sheathed in stone. So this was the infamous wind mage, sealed in his own broken blade—soon to be released. "You'll see. Everything will turn out fine."